The woman who rides the train utterly depleted? Is she like Tin May from Nwan Hlya Ein A Pyan**? And who is she, this young mother working hard to feed her child?

Eyes cast down, hands that don’t stop toiling, Despite all, a woman of one against the crowd.

But when the day is done
everything falls away.
Possessor of mountains in symphony with plains, sinuous, graceful vales,
the woman is a landscape laid bare.
Light floods across her breast;
She is a country unto herself.

She waits, poised, for the perfect moment. For under these curves,
tectonic plates can be found.